Taking Care of Herself
by Rose137
Summary: My version of “Run Away, Little Boy”. I know it’s been done before but please read anyway!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls.

Author's Note: I know this has been done before but I watched "Run Away, Little Boy" a few days ago and couldn't resist having a go. One shot for the moment but let me know if you want more- I have a few ideas for where it might go. And if any of you have read "Changes", my other trory, it will be updated soon. Promise!

"I might kiss you good bye, but, uh, your boyfriend's watching. Take care of yourself, Mary."

The irony wasn't lost on him when she smiled for the first time at that particular term of endearment. He was backing away, his eyes still locked on hers, dreading the moment when he'd have to break that final contact. She looked ridiculous in her Elizabethan costume, more Mary-like than usual if that was possible, but it was the look in her eyes that captivated him. She no longer looked as though she hated him.

She broke their gaze first and he sighed as he saw her turn towards the bagboy. It really was over. He turned away, trudging with leaden feet to where his father waited in the shadows.

"Tristan, wait!"

He swung round again and saw her moving towards him as quickly as the overblown dress would allow.

"I'm sorry, young lady, but we have to leave."

He was staring at the ground as his father spoke. Couldn't she just let him go? Goodbye was the one thing he'd managed to do right as far as she was concerned. He didn't like his chances of managing to repeat the performance without annoying her in some way. At least at present his last memory would be of her smiling. If he had to look at her again...

"Mr. DuGray? Sir, with respect, that's not fair."

His eyes shot up and locked again on her face, flushed, imploring.

"There are six of us in this group- at least, five without Brad- and we worked really hard on this. It's worth 50 of our final grade and Tristan is necessary. He's Romeo. We can't perform without him."

She paused for breath, not wanting to think about what means Paris might employ to make sure the show would go on.

"Whatever Tristan's done, it shouldn't affect the rest of us. I don't think Harvard accepts people who fail Shakespeare."

In desperation she was quoting Paris. If it didn't work, it would prove that she'd taken leave of her senses. Actually, she wasn't sure that proof was needed. She was pretty sure the leaving of the said senses had taken place sometime in the middle of his goodbye speech, when the hitherto endless needling had inexplicably ended and she'd realized she'd miss him. She was even babbling in her head to avoid facing that particular revelation. The last time she'd had a similiar epiphany- along the lines of "Maybe he's not all bad"- she'd kissed him and it had all ended in tears. This time she was sure it was going to end in tears too- she just wasn't quite clear where they'd be directed, given the unaccountable resentment bubbling up at Dean's presence and its prevention of the goodbye kiss.

Tristan's father- he was distinguished looking, as she'd expected, but kinder than she would have imagined- smiled wryly at her and she held her breath.

"You may have a point there. What's your name?"

Tristan's head snapped round in astonishment. Hope, too- though he hardly wanted to admit that as of now the greatest wish he had was to be allowed to appear on stage in tights, simply to have a few extra moments with her. This was a new low, possibly worse than dating Paris simply because Rory had asked him to. On the other hand, given his current situation, it really was the best he could hope for.

"Rory Gilmore."

"Well, Rory, I have no wish to punish the innocent with the guilty. Although if you're relying on Tristan to help your college application I think your faith may be a little misplaced." He turned to his son. "Go on, you'd better get this right. And then you're out of here. Understood?"

He nodded. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened, wasn't really surprised that Rory had managed to charm even his father. He just couldn't understand why she'd bother.

"Rory, hurry up!" Paris' not-so-dulcet tones reached them, apparently from some far-flung spot down the corridor.

"Thank you, sir," Rory said hurriedly, grabbing Tristan by his coat sleeve and pulling him away before his father could change his mind.

"Why, Mary, I didn't know you cared." He was smiling at her again, as unable to help the teasing remark as he was unable to believe his luck.

"I thought I made it perfectly clear that I care about my grade. And getting into Harvard." She was smiling too, though, unnaturally pleased at having delayed their goodbye, nothwithstanding the unflinching glare her boyfriend was sending in their direction.

"Quick, go and get changed before Paris makes both of us drink poison for real."

"Rory! NOW!"

"Coming, Paris! We've got Tristan back."

"Thank God for that," she heard Louise mutter with a reverence, however misplaced, that she hadn't known she possessed.

"Well, then, where is he?" Paris queried impatiently. "Places, people, we have no more time!" She clapped her hands, pushing them onto the stage.

Rory took her time arranging herself on the bench that was to be Juliet's deathbed, hoping to give him a few extra moments to get ready. She had nothing to worry about: he was there, a little breathless, but ready in record time. She squeezed his hand as he took his position, an unrehearsed gesture that made him smile at her. For the moment he didn't care what had driven her to force his participation. Every second spent with her was to be savoured, collected and filed away for reference in the wilderness of military school. For the duration of this scene he'd be the Romeo her Juliet deserved.

As soon as it began, they were conscious of it spinning fast to a conclusion. He'd never thought of himself as much of an actor, but it was as though he was just using someone else's words to express his own feelings at losing all that he held dear.

He leaned over her and suddenly his blue eyes took over her whole world. She was no longer conscious of Dean's presence, not even aware that Paris was not-so-subtly signalling her to close her eyes.

"Thus-" He was drawing the moment out, not wanting it to be over, causing her heart to beat faster in anticipation.

"With a kiss-" Her eyes at last fluttered closed as his lips brushed hers gently, slowly, in a way that left no doubt that this was more than a stage kiss.

"I die."

Her eyes opened again and she saw the tear, hidden from the audience, that rolled from his as he let his head fall slowly to her shoulder. Perhaps it should have fallen to her breast, but now that whatever could have been was over, he wasn't about to make her uncomfortable. So he was surprised when the curtain came down and her fingers tangled in his hair.

"I'm sorry."

"Why? I thought you'd be pleased." He sat up to look at her again, was surprised when he saw the tears standing in her eyes. He was unable to help the edge that crept, unbidden, into his voice.

"After all, you hate me."

She sat up abruptly, noticing Madeleine and Louise still standing there, grinning. At least Paris had moved on. "Can we get a little privacy?" she asked in exasperation.

"Didn't know you needed it," Louise answered flippantly. "Come on, Madeleine!"

Rory shook her head as they sashayed off stage.

"I don't hate you."

His eyes questioned hers, finding their answer as he leaned towards her again, needing the kiss that he knew would have to grant them both closure. This time it was much more than a gentle brush of lip on lip: there was a crushing urgency that stole her breath and left no question as to his desire. She responded in kind, surprising them both still further.

"Rory? Rory, sweetie, Dean's looking for you." "I've sent him out front with Sookie but I doubt he'll stay there long."

Her mother's voice filtered from somewhere backstage and she thanked the theatre gods that Lorelai hadn't come searching more efficiently.

"Be right there," she called back, refusing to break eye contact with him.

He pushed a stray hair behind her ear, tracing the organ that had so entranced him in class with his finger.

"So all I had to do was commit a crime and tell you I was leaving, huh?" he whispered sadly.

"Timing's a bitch," she answered bitterly, tears again clouding her eyes.

He nodded. "You can say that again. I really have to go. Can't make the old man madder than he is already."

He stood up, taking her hand to help her from the bench. "Wish you didn't cry every time I kissed you, though."

"Not at all crying material," she mumbled, her actions belying the words. At least this time she wasn't the one running away, although running was hardly the applicable word for his leaving. She'd definitely subdued the running away reflex. Wanting to push him against her locker and kiss him until he begged for mercy seemed to have replaced it for now. Certianly the idea of relinquishing him in favour of Dean or to military school or any girl he chose was not to borne.

"This really is goodbye," he said as they reached the emptying hallway.

"Maybe not."

She'd spotted Lorelai with his father, hoped she could work some kind of miracle. Of course, first they'd have to pull off the miracle of telepathy, since the last time they'd talked she hadn't been Tristan's biggest fan. To the best of her knowledge, using the power of thought to communicate hadn't worked in the past despite their closeness. She couldn't remember needing it to, though. She hoped necessity improved their psychic powers.

"How?"

She silenced him with a look, pulling him into an empty classroom and pushing him against a door. He was astonished at her temerity, didn't want to question it.

"My mom's talking to your dad," she said quietly. "She might be able to change his mind."

"And then what?" he queried. "Your boyfriend's still out there."

"And there are three girls you're seeing."

She was quoting Paris again. This had to be the most surreal evening of her life.

She suppressed a squeal as he lifted her up and turned her around, pressing her into the door.

"Not any more," he said huskily, the steady look in his eyes affirming his sincerity. She pulled his head down to taste his lips again, her need for him as clear as his for her. The fear that their time was running out fuelled her urgency, led her hands to trace the muscles of his back in a way she'd never wanted with Dean. Every sense would hold its own memory of him if this was only to be a goodbye.

She heard him gasp as she allowed her hands to wander lower over his rear, pulling him closer as the encouragement let him trail his own over the curve of her breast. Even through the restrictive costume, the sensation caused her to sigh into his mouth. She forced herself to focus on the reality that was to divide them.

"We have to go back out there," she said reluctantly, resting her head on his chest.

He placed a kiss on her forehead, still holding her close. "I know."

She took his hand and pulled him out of the room into the path of Lorelai and his father.

"You did really well," Lorelai said brightly, trying not to dwell on her daughter's flushed and slightly dishevelled appearance.

"You did well, son," Mr. DuGray echoed hesitantly. "I'm glad to see you haven't been wasting all your time."

"No, sir," he said firmly.

"I hope he hasn't spoiled your grade."

"I don't believe he has," Rory smiled back, and he was struck by the starry innocence of her eyes as she smiled at his son.

"Mr. DuGray?" she continued uncertainly.

"Won't you reconsider? Military school? I know what Tristan did was stupid but he's sorry and Chilton offers a really good education."

She had started to babble again, the Gilmore tendency when nervous reasserting itself with force.

"He's more in need of discipline than education," his father said tightly.

"Can't he have both?" She was surprised at her own persistence.

This time he smiled. "That's something I'll have to consider. But not tonight. Anger tends to cloud one's judgement. As does disappointment. Don't push it Rory- your mother and I have had a long talk about my motives and the consequences of my decisions. There's a lot more to think about. Come on Tristan, get your things and we'll go home."

"Thank you," Rory said politely.

"No promises," he warned her. "This isn't over yet."

Even so she smiled as Tristan kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Mary."

The hope in both their eyes wasn't lost on his father. Whatever was going on here might actually be good for Tristan, he thought. Perhaps forcing him to stay and face his demons might be better than forcing him to run. It was an idea at least worthy of thought.

She glanced around as they left and saw the hurt on Dean's face. Tristan's father wasn't the only one who could be accused of punishing the innocent. She started towards him, but he shook his head, making some motion with his hands that signified despair.

"Honey? You want to tell me what happened here?"

She turned bewildered eyes on her mother.

"Tristan. Somehow Tristan happened."

"And will he be happening again?"

"I hope so."

Lorelai bit her lip distractedly. 'Oh, God. Where's Sookie? I'm going to need help with this."

Rory was staring into the distance again. Everything she'd feared and tried to avoid had happened anyway. She was ruined. Every other boy would be compared to him- and she couldn't imagine that the comparison would be favourable. He'd have to stay at Chilton- she didn't think they'd welcome her at military school.


	2. What next?

It was the most uncomfortable half hour any of them had ever spent in a car. Lorelai had realised that she was responsible for making sure Dean got home safely and that meant not abandoning him in Hartford, however reluctant he might be to travel back with them. Realising that he was unlikely to listen to her, she'd sent Sookie to find him. It seemed safer- she was at least one step further removed from Rory and whatever meltdown was going on in her head. Of course, that didn't solve the problem of how to accommodate everyone. Lorelai thanked her lucky stars that at least, as driver, she didn't have to deal with the seating arrangements. They would have to sort that out between themselves.

In the end Lane drew the short straw, ending up wedged between Dean and Rory in the back. Sookie had the luxury of being front passenger. Lorelai wished she had a cab-like partition to block the teenagers out, though they weren't saying anything and it probably wouldn't really have helped. Rory was staring out one window, still looking as though she was in shock, while Dean was staring straight into the back of Sookie's seat. He didn't look so much shocked as deflated and resigned. Lane was sitting bolt upright , literally caught in the middle, her eyes darting from side to side. From time to time, though, she seemed to forget the current situation and they could see that she was thinking of Henry as her face would break into a goofy smile.

Lorelai wasn't exactly sorry for the silence. Dean's presence at least meant that she didn't have to say anything in the meantime. She'd never expected to have to deal with a situation like this with Rory, although she hadn't been naive enough to think that her first boyfriend would also be her last. It was just that she'd envisaged them drifting apart, drifting into friendship eventually. But not like this. Perhaps it was inevitable, she thought sadly. Even Rory had managed once to stay out all night with her boyfriend, unlikely though that had seemed. She sighed, forcing herself to concentrate on the road. After all, that overnight adventure had been innocent.

Thinking about that, she was sorry to see the end of Dean. He'd been a perfect first boyfriend. She trusted him. Trust and Tristan DuGray were not, nor ever likely to be, words that were synonymous. Shipping him off to military school was starting to seem like a great solution, even though she'd protested the idea to his father. In truth she'd always argue against that kind of punishment. She wondered if this wasn't the exception. It would remove his proximity to Rory. She sighed again, causing Sookie to look at her with some alarm. She wasn't looking forward to having to talk to Rory. She wasn't sure that either of them was ready for it.

At last they reached Stars Hollow. Dean was out of the car without a word at the first stoplight. Rory's eyes filled with tears as she watched him go and Lane took her hand in sympathy. What with the running after Henry, she'd missed most of the drama, though she'd caught the gist.

"Tristan?" she asked quietly, and Rory nodded, sniffling gently.

Not being ready to hear any confidences, Lorelai cleared her throat. "Regardless of tonight's little adventures, I for one am in need of food. And coffee. Who's in?"

"Not me, sweetie", Sookie said a little too brightly. "I have to get home to Jackson." Her smile lit up as she mentioned him and Lorelai, inwardly cursing her for desertion although this was something she'd have to deal with alone, softened. Sometimes she wished she had a Jackson. Christopher was too far away to talk to, too out of touch with Rory's life. Still, she supposed there was Luke. It wasn't the same though. He could offer all the friendship and support in the world, but he wouldn't be there when she went home at night, to hold her and comfort her and tell her everything would be all right. She should be used to not having that, but at times like this she missed having someone. Rory had been lucky to have Dean. She didn't care to think about whether Tristan would ever provide her with that kind of relationship.

"And I have to get home before Mama starts regretting letting me go," Lane added, giving Rory's hand a final squeeze as she too prepared to leave.

"Looks like it's just you and me, then," Lorelai said and Rory shrugged. She was even less prepared enthusiastic about any discussion than her mother.

They trudged into the diner, where Luke watched them with a certain degree of concern. True, they were there and no doubt demanding their usual fries, coffees and desserts, but there was something wrong that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

"What's up?" he whispered to Lorelai when Rory went to the bathroom.

"Rory broke up with Dean."

"Not again." She could see his jaw working, anger starting to boil up that anyone would hurt Rory.

"What is with that kid? Want me to sort him out?"

"Not exactly. This time it's definitely Rory's fault. And her new boyfriend. Tristan."

"The one you call Satan? You're going to let her go out with him?"

Lorelai shrugged.

"Well- yes. If he doesn't end up in military school."

Luke's eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth to speak but Lorelai continued, almost to herself.

"It's not like I have a choice. I trust her- even if I don't trust him and if I stop her seeing him it'll only drive her straight to him. After all, I have some experience with challenging parental authority. And she'll see him at school anyway- if he's there. I can't stop that."

Luke frowned. He didn't much like the sound of this, but- "I see your point. Wait- you said military school?"

Lorelai tried to simultaneously nod and shake her head at him as Rory returned.

"I'll get your orders," he said, moving rapidly away. He'd never seen them uncomfortable together but as soon as Rory had come back there was an atmosphere between them that he definitely didn't want to share.

"So," Lorelai began having no idea how to begin.

"So," Rory echoed. Talking had never been this difficult.

"You and Tristan..."

Rory turned red. She simply wasn't comfortable discussing her love life with her mother, no matter how close they were. It had taken her ages to get used to talking about Dean, to being with him in her mother's company. She'd thought it hadn't helped that Lorelai used her discomfort to comic effect, hoping to embarrass both Rory and Dean. However, there was no comedy here and her level of discomfort was skyrocketing.

"He might be going to military school." She was sticking to bald statements of fact that didn't involve her personally. Maybe she could avoid this until she had it figured out for herself.

"I gathered that. It didn't explain anything about this evening. You've spent this whole week trying to make sure he didn't upset Dean and tonight you just seemed to forget that Dean existed. What's going on, Rory?"

Their food had arrived with little ceremony and no comment from Luke, who had pulled the "Closed" sign round and gone back into the kitchen. To give them privacy, or so he told himself.

Rory started pushing the food around her plate. She really wasn't hungry.

"I guess I realised I'd miss him when he said he was leaving."

She hoped Lorelai would leave it there. But her mother's anxiety was merging into anger.

"So you thought you'd give him a goodbye he wouldn't forget?"

"Mom!" Rory sniffled again and put down her fork, the pretence of eating gone.

"That is not what this is about. I don't want him to go."

"How long has this been going on in your head? You said the kiss was the biggest mistake of your life."

"I thought it was." She wanted desperately to end this conversation, hoped shock value would do the trick.

"But if I'd done nothing tonight, that would have been the biggest mistake of my life." She'd started to cry properly now.

Lorelai shook her head. "What exactly did you do, Rory? After all, this is the boy who calls you Mary. At least I knew where I was with Dean."

"I kissed him. That's all! And you knew where you were with Dean because he was safe and we both knew I'd never really do anything with him because I wasn't in love with him. And there's no point in us fighting because we don't know yet if Tristan's even going to be here on Monday. Dean and I are over. That's it."

She dropped her head, knowing that if Tristan stayed the argument would play out over and over again. Unless she really had just given in to him because she thought it was goodbye: unless he wouldn't care any more if he stayed. She'd gone further with him in the empty classroom than she ever had with Dean in the privacy of her home. Tristan was different. He held the promise of granting her wishes she hadn't yet coherently formed.

"I suppose we should wait and see what happens." Lorelai was trying hard to find the voice of reason. The waiting until Monday was going to kill her.

It arrived eventually, Rory leaving Luke's with her coffee and few words from her mother. She hadn't heard from Tristan. Neither she nor Lorelai knew whether that was a sign that was good or bad. Not that Lorelai, at least, had defined good and bad in this particular scenario.

She was taking her books from her locker when she felt, rather than heard, his voice behind her.

"You're still here," she said delightedly, spinning around to face him.

She wasn't good at playing games, at playing it cool. He liked that about her- it was so different to the other girls he knew. His heart soared as their eyes met and she blushed, memories of Friday night playing behind both their eyes. Unconsciously she shifted her books to act as a buffer between them, terrified of any display of affection. She had no desire to be known as another of his locker sluts.

"Don't worry," he said softly into her ear, leaning down towards her. The gesture was almost more intimate than any kiss. "I'm not going to do anything to make you run."

"And what about you?" she asked almost desperately. "Your father- military school- "

He sighed, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair in the gesture she found most appealing. The hesitation made her heart sink.

"I'm trying not to. But it won't be easy."

"How so?" She was curious, still concerned but less afraid. The imminence of his departure had at least been delayed. It had to be a good sign.

"My father's ten-point plan," he said bitterly, though the bitterness was reserved for himself as the author of his own doom.

"His what?"

He started to count them off on his fingers.

"I get one detention, I'm out of here. I drop one grade, I'm out of here. I miss one class or one piano lesson-" he smiled as she blushed at the reference- "I'm gone. I spend my afternoons with my grandfather, I have a personal trainer for military-style discipline, I have prescribed after-school activities. No car, no parties, no girls. Nothing."

"That's a lot," she said, almost surprised at how comprehensive it was.

He nodded. "Military school might have been easier."

"What made him change his mind?" She was trying not to blow his last comment out of proportion. Would he really rather have given up and gone away?

"You," he answered, with the smile that reassured her and made her melt. "And your mother. He actually gave me the choice, though."

"He did?"

"Yes."

"So why did you stay?"

He took her books from her hands and smiled. "Here, I'll carry these. Do you really have to ask?"

"Gilmore! DuGray!"

With a sigh they turned to face Paris, Rory wondering what exactly he meant.

"Paris." He made it sound like a statement rather than a greeting.

"We got an 'A'." She slowed down as she caught up to them. "What are you still doing here anyway? And the 'A' is no thanks to you, either of you, whatever was going on with you last night. Your behaviour beforehand was completely unprofessional. And afterwards- Louise and Madeline are telling everyone about how you made them leave so as you could be alone."

Rory blushed. This was not going to make things easier with Paris.

"I was being sent to military school, in case you missed that part," Tristan said sarcastically. "Rory helped to change my father's mind and I'm still here. Glad you're so happy about it. Now, Mary, we'll have to get to class if you want me to stay."

He ushered her in front of him, leaving Paris speechless. Rory wasn't exactly pleased that she wasn't complaining about him calling her 'Mary' anymore, but she was starting to accept it. To accept him, for whatever he was. And for whatever he could be to her. Fear started to build up as she realised that already she was in so deep that he could hurt her more than anyone had before. It was something she'd been determined to avoid with Dean. But then he smiled as he handed her back her books and she couldn't help but smile back. Maybe he was worth the risk.


	3. Weaknesses

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Gilmore Girls

Author's Note: Thank you for reviewing. I don't have a lot of time to update but I will keep going with the story.

His new regime meant that she hadn't really been able to spend time alone with him. Which probably wasn't a bad thing for her own sanity as well as her mother's. Lorelai hadn't exactly grown resigned to the idea of her daughter as Satan's moll. On the other hand, she hadn't been able to convince herself she'd done the wrong thing in attempting to ensure his Chilton survival. At this point she was simply proud that she hadn't forcibly dragged Rory to the doctor and insisted that she go on the pill immediately. After all, she'd almost tried that once before and it hadn't been her brightest moment. This time she didn't want to encourage her daughter into thinking that sex was inevitable. Because this time she was desperately afraid that it might be.

They'd managed to share a few chaste kisses after school, when no-one was around and he was waiting for his grandfather. He suspected that those moments were the product of his grandfather's sympathy. He was always just a few minutes late, just long enough to let them convince themselves that these moments might one day make a relationship, even if so far it didn't resemble any dating pattern either of them had known before.

They were waiting as usual for his grandfather- and her bus- when she remembered about the Winter Festival. She'd talked Lorelai into letting her inviting him even though she wasn't sure he'd be allowed to come- let alone want to. It didn't fit with anything she'd known of him before and glad though she was to still have him around, she wasn't sure that she trusted him yet.

"I'll talk to my grandfather," he said.

He couldn't quite believe that his social life had been reduced to having to beg for permission to attend some ridiculous small town event. He didn't know whether his enthusiasm for it came from a desperation for any kind of relief from his punishment or simply his inexplicable need to be near her.

She smiled up at him, slipping her hand into his and he was horribly afraid it was the latter. Having spent so much time chasing her relentlessly, tormenting her in an effort to break her resolve and relieve his frustration, he'd stopped being afraid that even with their new understanding he was just waiting for a chance to destroy the innocence that had so beguiled him. Now he was simply afraid of the "they" he'd craved for so long.

He gave her a quick kiss as he saw his grandfather's car approaching, trying not to notice how much it affected both of them and how hard it was to pull away.

"Call me if you can come," she said quickly, scrambling away as the car drew up. She was still scared of being seen with him, partly because she didn't wanted to be bracketed with all the other girls he'd been with, partly because she was afraid his grandfather would see her presence as defiance and he'd be sent away after all.

"Good afternoon," his grandfather said affably as he threw his bag into the car and climbed in. "Was that the Gilmore girl again?"

"Yes, it was." he decided to dive right in and ask before he could decide it was a bad idea. "She's invited me to a festival in her town this evening. Do you think it'll be all right for me to go?"

His grandfather sighed. "I'm not responsible for your punishment, Tristan. You'll have to ask your father. Although he did seem quite impressed by her. Rory- that's her name, isn't it?"

"Yes," he muttered, hating himself for the way he was blushing like a girl.

He knew that Rory was taking a chance on him, that it hadn't made things easy between herself and her mother. And he knew she was hurt by that, had been surprised when he realised just how close she and Lorelai were. But the stubbornness that had hitherto kept him at arm's length was finally serving him well.

"I'll have a word with him. It sounds fairly harmless. And you're unlikely to come to much harm with Rory. Her grandfather talks about her quite a lot. I imagine she could keep you in line. And her mother certainly could."

He chuckled as he remembered Lorelai. He'd admired her, even as a child. She'd never been taken in by the facade of propriety around her. Although he'd heard very little of her between her pregnancy and the recent advent of Rory to her grandparents' lives, he had a lot of respect for Lorelai. He had no doubt that if her daughter was anything like her, she'd be able to handle his grandson.

"So is he coming?" Lorelai asked when Rory got home, trying to keep the barb out of her voice. There was no point in pretending this wasn't happening. She'd have to try to pretend to be happy about it instead.

Rory shrugged. "I don't know. Depends if his father lets him. I'm going to get changed anyway."

She was aware of her mother watching her, knowing she wasn't prepared to admit just how much she wanted him to be there.

In her room, Rory opened her wardrobe, wondering what to wear. She wasn't used to considering her clothes with a view to seduction. She reddened, not really ready to think about seducing him, although in truth she could think of little else when his hands and lips were in any kind of proximity to her. She couldn't work out how she'd suddenly turned into this mass of teenage hormones, although she could almost pinpoint the exact moment. It was the point at which he'd pinned her against the classroom door in her ridiculous Elizabethan costume. Apart from then, and the play rehearsal, he'd hardly seen her in anything other than her Chilton uniform. Given how cold it was, though, it didn't really matter what she wore since she'd be well and truly hidded under a warm coat, hat, gloves and scarf. Lorelai would at least approve of that.

The phone rang and she dived on it before her mother could reach it.

"Hello?"

"What time do I need to be there?"

She grinned, unable to keep the obvious happiness out of her voice. "You're allowed to come?"

He sounded happy himself, though he still didn't quite understand the emotion, never milnd the reason for it. "Yes. My grandfather talked to my dad and they agreed. As long as I'm not home too late."

"Well then you should come over early."

"Now?"

She glanced at the clothes she'd strewn on her bed and started to panic.

"Now is good. If you want to, that is. I mean-"

"Relax, Rory. It'll take me half an hour to get there anyway. Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Can you come to my house?"

It was the last place she wanted to meet him, but Lorelai would chalk up another point against him if she arranged anything else. Anyway, sooner or later their meeting was inevitable and they might as well get it over with.

"Sure."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Yes," he admitted, not really wanting to say he'd made a point of finding out when he'd been to Stars Hollow for the play rehearsal. "I'll see you soon."

She hung up, still smiling before panic really set in and she rummaged through the pile on her bed, finally selecting a pair of jeans and a dusky pink shirt that at least she'd be comfortable in.

Twenty minutes later she was wondering whether the waiting for him to show up was worse than Lorelai's impending inquisition. As soon as she heard his car outside she'd gladly have continued to wonder a little longer. Her mother didn't even give her a chance to answer the doorbell, fixing her in her spot beside the couch with a glare as she shifted from foot to foot as if that was likely to make a difference.

Lorelai opened the door with the brightest smile she could muster. "Hello, Tristan. I see they let you out. For good behaviour?"

"Uh- yes."

He wasn't particularly good at situations like this. In fact he'd never before experienced a situation where a girl's mother was so clearly immune to his charm. He was only too well aware that none of his lines would work on Lorelai Gilmore. Of course, they hadn't exactly worked on Rory either. He wasn't sure exactly what had.

"Just so you know, the good behaviour had better continue. Got it?"

He nodded, wondering if this was really worth the effort. But then he caught Rory's anguished glance as she tried to signal her mother to stop and the split second of liquid blue drove the question from his mind. He rushed to help her as she struggled into her coat, and Lorelai's eyes narrowed as she watched. It wasn't his politeness that had her worried: it was the effect that his slightest touch was clearly having on her blushing daughter.

"Well, then, have fun." They were framed in the doorway for a moment. "But not too much," she couldn't help but add, ignoring Rory's glare.

She watched as Tristan took Rory's gloved hand in his own and saw Rory's face light up.

"Coffee," she muttered to herself, checking her watch to give them a few minutes' head start before she'd head for Luke's in an effort to distract herself.

"So they let you come?" Rory asked, inwardly cursing herself for the stupidity of the question.

He nodded, swinging their hands so that his arm came to rest around her waist.

"My grandfather can be quite persuasive. He said your mother would keep me in line even if you didn't."

"True," she agreed. "Although I think I'm quite capable of dealing with you myself."

"Really?" he murmured, pulling her even closer so that she shivered at his breath on her ear.

"Really," she affirmed, refusing to give in quite so easily.

He sighed. "So what does a winter festival entail, anyway?"

She giggled. "You've never been to anything like this before, have you?"

He shook his head.

"There's a torchlight parade through the town, and the school band plays. And there's a dance recital by one of Miss Patty's classes, but don't worry, I'll keep you away from her- she might like you a little too much."

"And they thought I'd be safe here!" he said, rolling his eyes.

"Don't worry, she's harmless. At least-" She eyed him dubiously and he looked alarmed.

"Hot chocolate?" she asked, changing the subject as they reached Luke's.

"Yes, good idea," he agreed, letting her lead him through the door.

He was aware of the eyes that followed them, disturbed by it even though he was used to being the centre of attention. He allowed himself a moment of triumph as he realised Dean couldn't fail to hear that he'd been here with Rory.

"Hi, Luke."

The flannel-clad man behind the counter glared suspiciously at him.

"Hi, Rory. What can I get you?"

The query pointedly excluded him.

"This is Tristan," she said, pulling him forward.

He offered his hand and Luke took it with reluctance. He had the sense of meeting a girlfriend's father for the first time- one who wasn't going to like him whatever he did.

"Can we have two hot chocolates to go?" Rory asked and Luke nodded without enthusiasm. He hadn't warmed to Dean initially, but compared to this cocky looking rich boy he was remembering him fondly.

Rory seemed unaware of the untrusting undercurrents, smiling up at him again as they went outside to watch the festivities. In the end he couldn't remember a better evening- certainly not one he'd been able to remember the next day. He knew she wouldn't be comfortable with the kind of attention he wanted to give her, not in public and not here. So he'd managed to restrain himself, thinking she'd appreciate it, not knowing she was doubting her control as well as his interest.

Finally he had to walk her home. He knew this wouldn't end like most of his dates, but he had glanced through the diner window to make sure Lorelai was still inside, trying to cajole extra coffee from Luke, knowing that this meant he'd have a few minutes alone with Rory. They were silent on the way back, until as they approached her house he remembered the other reason he'd been allowed out for the evening.

"I got an 'A' in English," he said suddenly.

She grinned, genuinely delighted. "Must have been the Shakespeare," she said, stopping to hug him impulsively.

"Must have been," he agreed, taking the opportunity to kiss her properly for the first time that evening.

She responded instantly, hands snaking round his neck to pull him closer until he drew away to catch his breath and she remembered that they were in the middle of her street, where anyone could see them. He was surprised when she towed him to her door, opening it quickly and pulling him inside. He wasn't arguing, though, kicking it closed behind him and kissing her again even as she tried to get out of her coat. With the sudden warmth of the house and the heat of him wrapped around her she felt as though she was in flames.

He'd pushed the coat from her and torn off her scarf and hat, running his fingers through her hair as her hands slid under his jacket to pull him closer as he pressed her against the door, figuring that would give them some warning then of Lorelai's arrival. His hands slipped down her sides and she jumped as they found their way under the hem of her shirt, their touch against her skin causing her to push herself against him with greater force. As his lips left hers, she was embarrassed by her sigh that sounded more like a moan, burying her face against him, drinking in his scent as he smiled into her hair at her reaction. They stood like that for moments longer, wound tightly together, each taken aback at the intensity of their reaction to the other. She couldn't believe that she had wondered earlier if he wanted her in that way at all.

"I have to go," he said at last, kissing her again with what he meant to be finality, leaving them both with a sense of the unfinished. After this reprise of the heat between them, he wondered if this would ever be finished.

"See you in school," she breathed, wondering if now she'd let him push her against her locker the way she wanted him to, regardless of spying eyes.

And then he was gone, and she was leaning dazedly against the door, wondering when she'd gather the strength in her legs to move over to the sofa.

She was still there when Lorelai opened the door minutes later, sending her daughter stumbling to the floor.

"Tristan?" she asked in resignation, shaking her head as a reddening Rory scrambled to her feet.

She didn't want to know.


End file.
